my archives remain a source of inspiration.
and simultaneously, a brutal reminder.


even then.
an apparent dynamic equilibrium.
shelters nothing from natural passage.
though minuscule, these outcomes exist.
for now, my foot rests lightly on the surface.


i have my own ears.


once again, i blaspheme.
the ebbing state of my thoughts.
those that were once held in high reverence.
the same ones which i'd fail to recognize as my own.
expressions that could be fluidly beckoned with a fickle mind.
yes, even a fickle mind.
a mind that stole sceneries from its neighbours' windows, innately manufactured or otherwise.
a mind so remotely familiar yet deeply estranged.
the very one that churned out wit, tact and insight.
it is one i do not deserve to claim.


and i know why.


i dont care what you think
the best of us can find happiness in misery.

perfection at 3:00 PM